Wolf Star House
by spaghetti.and.pain
Summary: Lily Luna makes a new friend at Hogwarts and finds out his home life is abusive. Harry investigates the situation and discovers a problem far bigger than anyone had imagined. WARNING. Rated M for language and themes of abuse. In the future there may also be mental illness, self-harm, a suicide attempt, a rape attempt, etc. No graphic violence or smut.
1. El Gives Off A Vibe

The first day after Easter break of her fourth year at Hogwarts, Lily Luna Potter was caught transfiguring the choir's sheet music into tiny lizards during the lunch period. While most of the chorus members were delighted that something interesting was happening during their practice for a change, Flitwick was not so pleased. Her brother James discretely levitating one of the reptiles onto the diminutive professor's head and pointing at her certainly did not do anything to improve the situation. The chorus didn't get much practice in that day.

As she skulked up to the seventh floor five hours later to meet a somewhat irate Flitwick for a well-earned detention, she heard something from inside one of the stairwells. She came to a halt, then tried to quietly sneak closer to the source of the noise - obviously unsuccessfully, as whatever she was hearing immediately ceased.

"H-hello?" she called out, forgetting all about her detention. This seemed far more interesting than writing lines anyway.

There was a scuffling sound, followed by a congested "I swear I'm not doing anything wrong." A disheveled Slytherin appeared from directly behind the staircase.

She blinked hard. The skinny kid had bruises covering his neck and jaw, and his right cheekbone was puffy and swollen. A few tears escaped from his eyes and slid down his nose.

"What's your name?"

The boy fidgeted. "Anthony. Anthony Zabini." He hesitated. "Why are you up here after classes are over, anyway?"

"My name's, um, it's Lily, but I go by El. I was heading up for a detention."

They stared at the floor. El noticed with a bit of surprise that Anthony was wearing lovely black leather shoes; she had already assumed a backstory of a tormented, impoverished life. _Zabini, Zabini… wait. Doesn't Dad know a Zabini from the Ministry?_

"I know your name already. You should probably get going." The somber voice broke her train of thought and she glanced at her watch, cursing quietly when she realized Flitwick was expecting her in three minutes.

"Yeah, I guess I should. Um… I guess I'll see y -" Before she could finish her sentence, Anthony brushed past her and headed down the previous flight of stairs. At the bottom of the flight he looked back up toward her.

"We're in Potions together. See you tomorrow."

El watched him disappear and then shook herself. If they had a class together that meant that he was a fourth-year, too. How was it that he knew her, but she had no idea who he was? Her year had a lot of students in it, but it was still really weird that she had never talked to or heard of him before, even if they were in different houses. Oh well. There would be plenty of time to find out more about him later, but in the meantime she had to hustle before she got in even more trouble for being late. Flitwick despised lack of punctuality, and she had even heard that his office door was charmed to repeatedly, albeit lightly, smack entrants who were late for an appointment or meeting with him. Fortunately she reached the seventh floor just before her watch hit 5:30 and slipped into his office without incident.

Although Flitwick was terribly fond of his choir and was quite upset about having to herd up 73 adolescent green anoles instead of conducting, he was also terribly fond of dinner, and therefore cut the detention off at 6:15 sharp. El helped him sort through sheet music and organize submitted homework assignments by grade until he dismissed her to the Great Hall with an exasperated "don't do that ever again." When she got to the Gryffindor table and sat down, she scanned the Slytherins opposite her for Anthony, but did not spot him. _Whatever,_ she thought, _I'll see him around._ And with that she completely put aside their encounter and set to the pot roast and cucumber soda in front of her.

The next day, El's first class was Potions, so she left the dorm with all manner of questions to ask Anthony should they run into each other. Who had hit him? Why was he so jumpy when she found him? If he was hiding from someone, not to be harsh but… why wasn't he hiding better? She wandered absent-mindedly toward Slughorn's classroom and was nearing the door when someone pulled her into the shadows to the side.

"Wanna skip this shit?" It was Anthony. His face was noticeably less puffy, and the skin where the bruises had been yesterday now was unblemished. She shook his hand off of her arm.

"I've never skipped a class before," she said uncertainly.

He rolled his eyes. "They won't notice the first few times. Do it a lot and you'll get in trouble. But once won't hurt. Besides, I wanna talk to you."

El followed him to the closest girl's bathroom, which to her surprise he was able to enter. _What the heck?_ She went inside after him and sat with him in the open area outside the stalls. The tiles were cold, and there was a small puddle of liquid next to her leg. Behind them she heard the tinny _drip-drip_ of a leaky toilet pipe.

Anthony rested his chin on his knees and winced a little. "It's just a cover-up charm," he explained. "I was trying to do one yesterday when you found me but it wasn't working. That's why I was crying." He leaned over to her. "I'm trans. Nobody else really knows. That's why the charms let me in here but not into the men's room. If I'd introduced myself as Alicia would you have recognized me?"

She did a double take. "Oh! Yeah. That makes more sense, I was racking my brain for why I didn't know you. Should I still call you that around other people?"

"Please. I'm not really ready for anyone else to know. I don't even know why I told you, you just… seemed okay for some reason."

El laughed. "Yeah, I get that from a lot of people. Everybody comes out to me. I give off a vibe, apparently." She sighed. "Let me guess, you got beat up because of that?"

A flush rose to his dark ears. "That's, uh. Yeah. Yeah it was because of that."

She patted his shoulder tentatively. "If it's any help, I never would've known you if you hadn't told me. I thought you were just some guy I hadn't met before. And if anyone else gives you a hard time I'll set my older brother on them."

Anthony hesitated, drawing his foot along the tile lines. "It's not exactly anyone here that's the problem."

The redheaded girl's heart sank. She knew of other kids who had been beaten by their parents and even kicked out for being gay or trans, but she'd been hoping that wasn't his case. "Your family?"

"My dad's a piece of shit. He beats all of us but I've gotten it the worst since I tried coming out to him. Family services won't do anything because he's well-known and it would look bad."

The two fourth-years talked for the rest of the class period, glossing over the clearly uncomfortable topic of Anthony's family and instead discussing hobbies, music, and El's ridiculously overweight cat, Jalapeno. When the clock struck 9 they looked at each other with mutual expressions of surprise at how quickly an hour had gone by. El got up first and helped her new friend to his feet, handing him his bag, and they left the bathroom together.

"See you tomorrow?" Anthony asked.

"Definitely," El responded.

They parted ways at the doors, one feeling like a rebel and the other like he finally had someone to trust.


	2. Harry Knows What to Do (for once)

For the next month or so, El and Anthony continued to skip Potions as often as three times a week. The two became complacent as they realized that, due to the sheer number of students at in their year and a surprising lack of attendance-keeping, it was entirely too easy to miss classes and never face consequences. They sometimes did not even stay in the bathroom for the full hour, but wandered the halls, went to the library, or snuck down to the kitchen to get snacks from the doting house elves. Always sure to keep away from prefects and teachers who would know where they were supposed to be, they were sure that nobody noticed their recurring absences. What they did not realize, though, was that the headmaster was very much aware of them.

One sunny morning in May, they were exploring the clock tower (there were a great number of painting-covered doors in the castle and it was oddly entertaining to try to antagonize the portrait subjects into letting them through) when a tawny owl swooped by, dropping them a thin, yellow envelope. El looked at Anthony and shrugged, then bent down and picked up the missive. Upon opening it, she read aloud the note inside.

"Zabini and Potter: please come immediately to my office. We need to have a discussion. Thank you. Signed, Headmistress Pomona Sprout."

"Well, we're fucked," Anthony said matter-of-factly. El looked pale. "I mean, Sprout is really nice, I think," he amended, "and it's not like it's been all year or anything. We should be fine."

El appeared mildly less concerned. "Come on, let's go," she groaned. They hustled downstairs and through the hospital wing, and then up to the top of the Great Tower. The eagle's wings at the front of the headmaster's office stretched open to usher them inside, where Professors Sprout, Malfoy, and Longbottom sat around part of a very wide, round desk. The owl who had delivered the note now perched on a windowsill across the room with a distinct air of disapproval about it.

"Take a seat," Sprout offered kindly, gesturing to two armchairs opposite her and the other teachers. She pushed a glass pot of sweets toward them. "It has come to our attention," she continued, "that you two have been choosing rather frequently to skip your class with Professor Slughorn. Now, you of course realize that our revered Potions master is a somewhat distracted man, but it cannot escape even his attention when two of his students miss" - here she checked a paper on the desk before her - "eleven classes in one month. Do you have an explanation for this situation?"

The fourth-years stared shamefacedly at their laps.

Longbottom sat a little taller. "As your heads of houses, Professor Malfoy and I have been called in to deal with repercussions for the complete ignorance of responsibility that you have shown." Malfoy's lips pursed so tight it seemed that they would peel straight off of his face. "We are considering consequences including subtractions of twenty points from the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses, and owls home to your parents."

Anthony shot up from his seat. "No! No please don't contact my home, please, you don't understand," he begged, tears welling up in his dark eyes. "I'll do detentions for the rest of the year, I'll bring all of my grades up, please just don't say anything to my father about this."

Sprout glanced at Malfoy. "As Zabini is in your house, it is ultimately your call what consequences you shall enforce. However, I will say I do not think this situation necessitates parent contact."

His mouth slowly untightening, Malfoy nodded. "I agree with the Headmistress. I believe the point deduction shall suffice." Anthony sank back down into the chair.

The three professors looked around at each other and nodded in unison. "I think that settles it then. Children, please be aware from now on that your teachers are more involved in your education than you seem to have thought. We care very much that you are getting the quality and quantity of learning opportunity that Hogwarts prides itself on providing every student. Do your best to keep up your end of this," the Headmistress concluded.

They all stood up now, Anthony carrying an expression of immense relief. Malfoy escorted him out of the office, presumably to his next class. Sprout also departed, with a motherly "take care now Potter, you've never been a troublemaker for us before," leaving El and Professor Longbottom alone outside the office.

Longbottom heaved a sigh. "Lily, I know you know what that reaction was about. Is there anything you need to share with me?"

El started denying it, but she couldn't even convince herself. "Anth- Zabini's father. Blaise. He's terrible to his kids. But he works with the Ministry and is very well-known and child services haven't done anything because he's so prominent. I think Zabini was scared of getting kicked out if an owl was sent home."

The Gryffindor head of house sighed again. "May I write to your father about this? I don't feel right letting that kid's life go on like that without even trying to do anything."

She nodded permission. "Go ahead. I don't know what Dad can do, though."

Professor Longbottom's eyes twinkled. "Hurry to your next class. I'll see what I can manage."

Late that evening, Harry Potter opened a letter dropped through his window by a big gray owl.

"Harry," it read, "one of Lily's friends here is in an unsafe home environment. I know what that's like to an extent, but you have far more experience with it (sorry to dredge up bad memories). For various reasons the Child Services Department is unable to rectify the situation and the summer holiday is coming up fast. Is there any way you could help me find somewhere for the student to stay until a more long-term solution can be found? Consider this the repayment you always talk about for me killing that monster snake in 7th year. Think about it at any rate. Thanks. Neville."

Harry chuckled. He knew exactly where the kid could stay.


	3. 12 Grimmauld Place

El awoke on the last day of the Summer Term to Jalapeno batting her face with one of his huge paws. As he saw his human open her autumn-brown eyes, he sat back, a self satisfied look on his round face. He hopped off the bed and prowled away, fancying himself a hunting cat, though the only time he'd ever chittered was when a tidbit of food thrown at him landed a little too far away.

The note she'd been rereading constantly for the last week still lay on her bedside table, and when she realized that today was the day, her heart leapt in her chest. She'd received it by owl what felt like ages ago, and she'd immediately met up with Anthony. "Lily," she'd excitedly read it to him, "tell your friend to pack their bags not to go to their house, but to come home with us. I've made arrangements somewhere for them to stay. Proud of you for saying something to Neville. Stay safe. See you next week at Platform 9 ¾. Love, Dad." Anthony had practically jumped for joy, and they'd both immediately set to packing; the Slytherin quickly dispatched an owl to his father asserting that he would not be coming home for the holiday. Now the actual day that they would board the Express was here and neither of them could wait.

The rest of the day went by quickly; El and Anthony merely went through the motions of eating breakfast and lunch, checking their dorms for anything they might have forgotten, and saying goodbye to various professors and graduating classmates. When Professor Sprout asked them if they were excited for their holiday, Anthony claimed he thought was going to explode, which El adamantly seconded. But they made it somehow to four o'clock, and finally they were across the lake and on the train, able to breathe normally again now that they could feel the familiar rumble in their bones that meant another year had passed. El ordered a few chocolate frogs and a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavours from the trolley, and they watched through the windows as the open verdancy of rural Scotland rolled eventually into an orange crush sunset above the London skyline.

El's brother Albus, who was a sixth-year Slytherin prefect, stuck his head into their compartment at 7:00. "We're going into King's Cross," he told them. "Make sure you're ready to get off right when we stop, the train's a bit behind schedule and they're gonna want to unload quickly." He shot them a good-natured grin before returning to the prefects' car.

Anthony stood up and stretched his arms, then took El's luggage down from the overhead compartment and handed it to her before getting his own. His friend stood as well, and they waited half-in half-out of their compartment until the train pulled to a halt, at which point they raced each other off to the platform, Jalapeno at a light jog behind them (it was all he could manage). There Harry and Ginny were waiting for them, along with James and Albus, who had already left the train and met up with their parents.

El's friend hung back almost bashfully as the Potters exchanged hugs and hellos, and then El ushered him forward. "Dad, this is…" she trailed off, uncertain.

"Hi, I'm Anthony," he stepped in to introduce himself, shaking Harry's hand. "Thanks so much for helping me out, you didn't have to do that, and it means a lot." He went to shake Ginny's hand next, but she gave him a warm smile and pulled him into a hug instead.

"Don't be silly. If you're Lily's friend, you're as good as a son to us," she insisted, brushing back an errant strand of his unruly black hair. He thought that she carried a smell of vanilla cupcakes and wished for a moment that she really were his mother.

The Granger-Weasleys swung by to greet the family, as well as Professor Malfoy and Scorpio, who were bringing Albus and Rose home with them for the first two weeks of the holiday. Teddy Lupin came to pick up James and his friends for their graduation party, and finally the rest of the Potters and Anthony were able to get going themselves. Harry showed Anthony how to buckle a seatbelt once he and El were settled in the backseat of the car. The pureblood boy seemed almost thrilled to be in a Muggle vehicle (he had never even been close to one before; his father didn't believe in such contraptions).

As they drove across London, El looked out the window, confused wrinkles on her forehead deepening over the first few minutes of the ride. Suddenly she said, "Dad? This isn't the way home, where are we going?"

Harry glanced over at Ginny and they shared a mischievous look. "You'll see," he said cryptically.

After about twenty minutes more, during which time El's forehead creased so much that it rivaled the Grand Canyon, Harry pulled the car into a lot behind a tall apartment building. They all got out while he walked up the steps and gave two sharp raps of his wand on a railing down the middle. Anthony watched in astonishment as the building heaved a great shudder and began to expand, revealing a whole other apartment between two that had appeared to be directly against one another. A look of realization dawned on El's face and Ginny laughed.

Harry turned around with a devilish grin on his face that made him look years younger. "Welcome to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," he said.

Inside, neither El nor Anthony could keep from craning their necks to take everything in. The ceiling seemed as high as that of Hogwarts' Great Hall, the walls were covered in ancient paper and had portraits of sober, staring witches and wizards, and there was a long green carpet extending from the entrance, past the doors and stairwells on the sides, all the way to the kitchen at the end of the hall. Jalapeno hissed at one of the paintings and received a rude hand gesture.

"Have you ever been here before?" Anthony whispered to El.

"No," she whispered back, "I actually totally forgot that this place even existed."

They followed Harry into the kitchen, where he waved for them to sit at the enormous dining table in the center of the room. "So," he said, "this is the house my godfather left me. Anthony, you cool with staying here for the summer? If you have siblings, we can get them here too. I'm gonna work on stuff with your dad."

Anthony's dark eyes grew even wider. "Are you for real? I- I'd love that, Mr. Potter. That would be a- amazing," he stammered. "I have a sister and a brother at home. My sister is going to Hogwarts this fall, but my brother is still only nine."

Harry nodded. "I'll arrange for them to come here straightaway. I've found someone who can stay here with you, and Lily can come over whenever you both would like. Her mother and I will come by occasionally to check on you as well."

Ginny waggled her eyebrows. "We'll know if you're up to any funny business here. Word of advice? Stay out of the left attic. Haven't gotten around to cleaning that one out yet." El was quite alarmed by this. She had an irrational fear of attics.

"By the way," Harry added, "you're transgender, right?"

Anthony looked down. "Yeah."

"Want us to get you set up with the LGBT clinic at St. Mungo's? I have the authority as a government worker to give consent for you. Just let us know in the future if it's a step you'd want to take," he said when he saw Anthony hesitate. "It's completely okay to not be ready yet."

The teenager gave a half-smile. "Thanks. I think I'd like that."

Once Harry set up the preliminary steps of getting Anthony's siblings, Amelia and Rowen, out to London, he took Anthony and El on a tour of the house while Ginny watched Jalapeno explore the new territory. Kreacher, the Potters' house elf, apparated to Grimmauld Place from their home in Ottery St. Catchpole and right away carried their luggages upstairs, fed the cat, and began to prepare supper. By the time the trio returned to the kitchen, Kreacher had set out a spread fit for kings on the table: chicken vegetable soup, a massive chef's salad, and pitchers of assorted teas and drinks. The elf pulled out their chairs and then took his own place at the table, being as it was that he was free, and chose to continue serving the family of his own volition.

After they had eaten their fills, the kids were able to go upstairs and pick their own bedrooms, which had been cleared out of any rubbish and purist decor years ago and given instead lovely pastel blankets and sheets and wallpapers. El opted to sleep in the same room as Anthony for the first night, as they were both unfamiliar with the house and wanted each other's company. They planned on staying up all night in true slumber party form, but as they lay in their sleeping bags, they started to drift off.

"Anthony?" El said quietly.

"Yeah?" came the sleepy response.

"I think this is gonna be alright."

"Yeah. Me too." He yawned. "G'night, El."

"G'night."

When Ginny came across the hall to check on them a few minutes later, they were both snoring. She switched their light off and pulled the door shut, then leaned against the wall outside their room. _I'm so glad we can do this for that poor kid,_ she thought to herself before making her way back to the master bedroom, where Harry was already fast asleep.


	4. Imperio?

Two weeks of summer holiday went by before Harry Potter had the time to do any real background research on his daughter's new best friend. He found himself in the computer lounge he'd added to one of the larger upstairs rooms, using his Aurors' access key to browse the database of post-War criminal activity. Since the war's end, there had been many changes to how the Ministry ran, one of which was the widespread computerization of Ministry information and the training of non-Muggle employees to use the devices. Harry had actually been one of the loudest voices pushing for this; for too long the Wizarding world had operated with outdated systems like the record-keeping mess he'd walked into on his first day. Muggles invented things for a reason.

Mr. Potter's first order of business was to find out more about Anthony's father. Blaise Zabini had been in the same year as Harry in Hogwarts, a Slytherin he'd frequently seen hanging around Draco Malfoy, but not one of his puppets like Crabbe and Goyle. From what he remembered, Zabini had always worked independently of Malfoy's crowd, taking a somewhat mysterious role in terms of beliefs and allegiances. Looking at his record now, this had stayed the case as time went on. Zabini was charged with involvement in Death Eater activity but was acquitted when he turned informant. His profile stated that he was now married to a half-blood witch himself, so maybe his sleazy past had been solely self-preservational. Harry also found that Zabini had two other children, both younger than Anthony: Emilie, who was ten years old, and Roland, who was six. After spending years rising through the ranks of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, he currently held one of the British seats in the International Confederation of Wizards. He was a well-known, well-liked politician who had shed his dark past in favor of a public show of misled-teenager-turned-successful-adult.

However, digging further, Harry uncovered some rather interesting information. In the years since Roland was born, nine calls to Child Services had been made on the grounds of Blaise using the Imperius Curse to control his kids or attacking them with violent spells. None of the visits had been followed up with any kind of disciplinary action. Apparently this was because his wand showed no trace of the curses he was accused with, but Harry didn't buy it. There was still corruption and favoritism in the Ministry. It wasn't as open or as severe as it was during Harry's time in Hogwarts, but it was still very much a present force. That was a completely different problem, though. Regardless of what had already happened or not happened, his first order of business was getting Anthony's sister and brother out of that house.

.

.

.

Blaise Zabini received a Ministry owl at his window at 8:37 in the morning, the fourth Saturday of June.

"Mr. Zabini," it read, "please be ready for a visit from the Head of the Auror Department at 8:40 sharp."

 _What the fuck is going on now,_ he thought exhaustedly.

Mr. Potter appeared with a CRACK! in Zabini's living room. The politician was already sitting, composed, on a white chaise longue against one wall. "Hello, Harry, it's been a while. Won't you have a seat?"

Harry obliged, sinking down onto a squishy red armchair across from Blaise. "I think you know why I'm here. Your kid has been with my family for the last few weeks. Alicia."

The taller man rubbed his temples. "She told me she'd be staying with friends for the holiday. I didn't know she'd acquainted herself with your family. If she is any burden I can take her back home immediately. My apologies."

His visitor stared at him. "You really have no idea why I'm here, do you? I'm well aware of what you've been doing to your children. I'm here to take Emilie and Roland home with me under my temporary custody. I'll take this to Child Services if I have to, but I'd rather keep it between the two of us. I don't want to be involved in a public scandal."

Blaise stood up, made a move like reaching for his wand, and then sighed and sat back down. "Fine," was all he said.

The Auror seemed uncomfortable. "Fine? You're not going to put up any more of a fight than that?"

Zabini uttered a short, mirthless laugh. "Potter, I don't think you understand this situation any more than your precious Ministry offices do. Please. Take my children. They'll be better off with you than the damned foster families they were offering us last time. Just get out of my house."

Harry frowned. "Where are they?"

"In the backyard. I'll get suitcases together for them. You go call them in."

When Harry stepped out the back door, Emilie and Roland were in the middle of what appeared to be a very competitive game of tag. He watched Emilie slide into the shade of a unnaturally large yellow daisy, screaming "SAFE BASE" as Roland came to a halt and groaned. They both noticed Harry's presence only then, and glanced at each other before coming up to him.

"Hello Mr. Ministry Man," Roland politely greeted him, recognizing his suit from Daddy's work meetings.

He smiled. He missed when his own children were this young, when they would play with each other without feeling the need to antagonize and argue every second. "Hey guys," he said lightly, "want to come back inside? Your dad is packing up some bags for you so you can go visit Alicia, would you like that?"

They both nodded and followed him through the door back into the kitchen, where Blaise already stood awkwardly holding two valises, one a dark navy blue with a gold _R_ embroidered on it, and the other a zesty orange-red with a black _M._ To Harry's surprise, both of the kids ran up to their father and hugged him, smiling up at him.

"Bye, Daddy," Emilie said sadly, as though she knew what was happening. "I'll tell Alicia you said hello."

Blaise untangled a small loop of her curly black hair in an absentmindedly affectionate gesture, then pulled Roland closer and kissed the top of his head.

"You both be good," he told them quietly, pushing them back towards Harry. He handed the Auror their packed bags along with a piece of paper.

Harry would read the note later. Right now, it was time to go. He smiled, disconcerted, at the man whose children he was taking without a fight, promised to take good care of them, and Disapparated out of the kitchen.

Anthony's siblings were very happy to be reunited with him, although he'd decided preemptively to wait on telling them about his being transgender. They all ate supper together, and Roland took an immediate liking to El when she gave him an extra helping of raspberry sherbet. Both of the kids were already tired when they arrived, and after dinner, they were clearly ready to drop. El walked the little boy to a room they'd set up for him, and Ginny went with his sister.

Emilie cast a sidelong glance at Ginny as the redhead tucked her in.

"It wasn't Daddy," she commented. She looked and sounded like she was tossing a ball and waiting to see if the woman would catch it or let it roll away.

She caught. "What wasn't, Emmie?"

"That did that stuff to us and Alicia. It wasn't him."

Ginny seemed intrigued. "Then who was it?"

"Dunno. He goes away sometimes. It's like he's asleep, but his body isn't. His eyes go all blank. He'll do stuff, and then just lie on the floor shaking." Emmie kicked her cotton sheets to cover her feet better and abruptly turned away from Ginny. "Goodnight."

Her foster mother patted her small head and shut off the light. "Night, dear," she replied and, closing the door behind her, went straight down to the dining room, where Harry was getting a late-night snack as usual. She sat at one of the oak chairs and crossed her legs on the table. His entire torso was in the refrigerator, and his head narrowly escaped a bruise as he withdrew himself with cheese and turkey lunchmeat.

"Harry? Emilie just told me something very interesting and I want to hear your thoughts on it." She relayed what the girl had confided to her, sneaking a grape from the bowl her husband had put out as she waited for his response.

Harry thought hard for a minute, then said, "Honestly, it sounds like he could have lasting damage from an Imperius Curse. Being cursed by someone who dies before they take the curse off can leave a lot of issues, because the spell is never formally ended. It's dark magic, so it just lingers afterward. Knowing his history, if he'd been under an Imperius Curse cast by someone who died in the War…" He trailed off. "Merlin's beard. That's probably why nobody's ever done anything. He actually WAS using wandless magic, and he wouldn't have any memory of it, so Veritaserum and wand checks wouldn't show jack shit."

Ginny nodded slowly. "That was a pretty big concern when shit was getting really bad. I didn't know those rumors actually carried any weight, but it sounds like they were true."

"Yep," Harry said, "it can surge sometimes, and force the victim to pick back up doing whatever one of the caster's last commands was. When they come back to themselves they have no idea what happened. They just know _something_ happened. It causes a lot of mental trauma in most cases."

"Was Zabini ever under the Imperius Curse, though? By someone who died in the War?"

"I don't know. But I know who to ask."

At the house Harry and the children had left hours ago, Blaise Zabini struggled to keep his mind awake. He turned on his shower faucet and sank to his knees on the tiled bathtub floor, making a low keening sound, as the blankness crept over him like poison ivy. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fu-_


	5. Draco's Hiding Something

Walking into the central London pub, Harry did a quick head scan before spotting his target's distinctive silver-blond hair. He raised a hand to catch the man's attention and made a beeline for his spot at the bar.

He sat down next to him. "Hi, Draco," he said politely. When their children became friends with each other, the old rivals had halfheartedly reconciled their animosity. Harry was hoping they could maintain that civility even without their families around.

The blond gave him a thin half-smile. "Potter."

 _What a great start._ The Auror sighed as Draco flagged down the bartender.

"One gold apple Strongbow, thanks," Draco ordered.

Harry was a little surprised. He'd been expecting more expensive taste from Draco, considering his upbringing, but he wasn't above a cold cider himself. He ordered the same, and the bartender quickly returned with two glass bottles.

Draco popped the cap open and took a long sip, then put the bottle on the bar and turned toward Harry. "So, out with it, Potter."

"Hm?" Harry looked up distractedly from his own bottle. He always got sidetracked reading the ingredient lists.

"I know this is about something. We haven't been alone with each other since … well. That fight in sixth year, I suppose. So you may as well just get on it."

"Ah." Time and changing priorities made him forget, or perhaps romanticize, how blunt Draco tended to be. "I've been hoping I could get some help from you with figuring out a private case I'm working on. There are things I don't, uh, like about you, but you know how to keep a secret."

Draco scoffed, took another sip of cider and set the bottle down just slightly harder than necessary. "Help from me? I'm a professor, for Merlin's sake. I don't have intel or whatever it is you're looking for."

"It's about Blaise Zabini," Harry entreated. "I know you two used to be friendly. I'm trying to help him."

The professor's eyes went dark. "We haven't spoken in over a decade." He downed the rest of the Strongbow. "My family owes you." He hesitated. "I owe you. Do you really want this to be the favor you cash in? I have money. I have vacation homes. I own stock in every major Wizarding company. I can give you anything you want."

Harry shook his head. "Believe it or not, Draco, I'm happy with the life I've made. I have money, too. I have a family. The only thing I need- or want- from you is this, and I know you can help. It wouldn't kill you to just answer a few questions."

Draco locked his hands and stretched his arms, looking at Harry with an irritated expression. "I work with children _and_ have a wife, and somehow you still manage to be my biggest source of stress. I can't guarantee that you'll get the answers you want. You know that, right?"

"I'll take anything at this point." Harry waited for a response and didn't get one, so he continued. "I think Zabini may be suffering from side effects of an unended Imperius curse. I need to know if he was under the control of someone who died in the war."

Draco stood up abruptly. "No. Absolutely not. I can't help you."

"Wait, no, I don't-"

"I said no," he hissed. "Play detective all you want, Potter. I certainly don't care how you spend your time. But I will not be dragged into your little game." He stormed into the pub's bathroom, and the loud crack of his disapparation rang out shortly after. The muggles surrounding Harry seemed unfazed.

 _Well, fuck. There goes my only lead._ Harry remained at the bar and slowly drank the last few mouthfuls of his cider. He had no idea where to go from here.

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When he returned to Grimmauld Place, Ginny greeted him at the door. "Hey, honey. How did the -"

He cut her off with a gentle kiss. "I don't want to talk about it right now. I have to think. How'd it go holding down the fort here?"

She shrugged. "Roland and Emilie are so shy, and I think they're getting a bit homesick. I got out some bins of Lily and Albus's old toys from the attic and they're keeping themselves pretty busy now." She gestured toward the kitchen. "Anthony offered to cook supper for everyone, so him and Lily are in there now. He's really the sweetest kid."

Harry laughed. "Have you seen how happy Lily is with him around? I wonder if there's a tiny crush happening there."

His wife giggled too. "She gets her emotion management skills from me, so even if there was it'd take an act of Merlin for her to admit it. But I don't think there is anything there beyond friendship. She doesn't confide in us much but I still know how to read her."

From the kitchen came El's voice. "Mum! Is that Dad you're talking to? We've burnt the pasta and I dunno the spell to fix it."

The couple started laughing again. Harry almost forgot how badly his meeting with Draco had gone. "I guess everyone knows you're no good at cooking spells, eh?" he teased Ginny.

She lightly punched his chest. "I didn't exactly have time to practice them when I was a Harpy," she protested.

Harry raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm coming!" he raised his voice so the kids could hear, then turned back to Ginny. "Can we talk more later? I need to pick your brain. You and 'Mione have always been the smart ones."

The woman raised an eyebrow at his admittal of defeat but nodded. "Any advice I can give, you can have. You know that."

He gave her a grateful hug and headed for the kitchen. "Here, Lily," Ginny heard, "you just raise your wand like so and-"

A whoosh of black smoke spread into the hallway where she still stood. Everything was silent for a beat. Her husband poked his head out of the doorway, face and clothes coated with soot.

"Uh. The pasta's _really_ burnt now," he confirmed to Ginny.

She snorted. "Couldn't tell. I'll order Thai?"

"YES!" El overheard and obviously approved. That settled that, then.

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Late that night, while the kids all slept, Harry and Ginny sat alone in the upstairs office. "I don't know how to figure this out without Draco's help," the Auror said quietly. "I really don't. He's the only person who would know about it that I'm on even remotely good terms with."

"I mean, you have access to the list of the Death Eaters and their allies who died in the war. It had to have been someone on that file. Maybe that's enough to start some theories, and go from there?" Ginny thought for a few seconds. "I honestly can't think of anything else you can try, unless Draco decides to open up."

Harry stared thoughtfully at the mug of tea sitting on the desk in front of him. He had no idea how old it was. Do they even have that set of china anymore? "Yeah, you're right, I guess. I'm just impatient to figure this out. I won't have a leg to stand on opening a case with the Wizengamot until I have more than just theories."

"What kind of case do you even want to open?" Ginny sneaked a peek at the same mug of tea and tried to think of how long ago she'd thrown out those cups.

"Well, I want to get Anthony emancipated. Regardless of whether the physical abuse are Blaise's fault or not, he's not supportive of Anthony transitioning, and I want to keep the kid out of that environment. But his younger kids seem to just want to go home. If I can prove Blaise is still under a curse, maybe I can push for a temporary change of guardianship, get them to put him in a treatment program or something, and then let them go back to him. I really want to help him. I just don't want to risk my ass to save his until I'm sure of what's happening."

Ginny hummed pensively. "So really you already have the first part of that down. You just need to prove the abuse isn't his fault so they don't rule to permanently take away the little ones."

He nodded. "If I'd been able to actually get anything out of Draco today I'd be one step closer. I know he knew something. I just have no idea how to convince him to tell me what it is."

"I think we should sleep on it. It's getting really late and I doubt we're gonna come up with anything else before we get some rest." She stood up & moved behind her husband, softly rubbing his back, and kissed the top of his head. "Come to bed. We can look at those fatality lists in the morning."


End file.
